Page 30 of The Trap

“The fuck it doesn’t,” Colson quips. He leaps forward, closing the space that I created between us, and yanks at my shoulder to get my attention.

“Damn, if you want to yank at something, I rather you pull my hair and fuck me, not dislocate my arm, sweetheart,” I singsong, voice ripe with sarcasm.

His mouth opens as he points his free hand to the camera recording us. “Cut the shit, Rae.”

“Oh my god, Rae? Look at us. One face-fuck in and we’re at nickname status already,” I pout.

“You’re insufferable, you know that right?” he asks in a serious tone that makes him look and sound cuter than he intended.

“I know,” I wink, reveling in the flustered expression plastered all over that chiseled, fuckable face.

Directing his attention back to the lens, he continues. “Did she put you up to this?” he asks, practically accusing me.

“Excuse me?” I move to his side, swatting his pointed index finger down. “Yeah Colson, I planned for you to break into my house and then have us both kidnapped. Get a fucking grip.”

He stares at me and for a moment he almost looks embarrassed that he accused me of being behind this, considering how our evening started. “I mean, you lied about who you were for how long?” He asks with an unexpectedly calmness in his voice and I can’t help but to feel that the fact thatI not only lied about who I was but that I lied to him, hurt him more than he wants to admit. My lips purse, defaulting to my usual scowl and he adjusts the tone of his voice accordingly. “I wouldn’t put it past you to be lying now, Raiden Re-mos.”

The way he butchers the pronunciation of my name on purpose truly is a crime.

I laugh. “You really need to work on rolling your R’s. Not only will it help you pronounce my name properly when you fist fuck your cock at night, it will help you eat pussy better,” I lie, because the man can eat…and suck…and do otherworldly things with that tongue of his. I haven’t had my pussy eaten and teased – or spanked so good – like that…ever. Seriously, I’m fluttering just thinking about it, even as I want to slap him and whoever is responsible for us being dragged here.

He rubs his palm at his mouth trying to suppress his smug grin. “You came, didn’t you? It’s not my fault your pussy is the only part of you that’s incapable of lying.”

Twisting my arm, he pulls me closer, forcing my chest against his again. He lowers his stubbled jaw. His lips are now so close to mine that it feels like we’re kissing just like that night in the foyer. Except this time, we’ve already crossed a physical threshold, that makes this closeness feel even more intense.

“Yes?” I ask, just as I gather the saliva at the back of my throat and spit at him. The droplets of saliva coat his scruffy cheek and I can’t tell if he looks disgusted or turned on…or both.

As he squeezes my wrist tighter, I let out a forced whimper. He thinks he’s hurting me, but he’s not. I could easily fight him off. I'm choosing not to because for one, I like it a little rough, and two, it irritates him that his tough guy act doesn’t work on me. I see right through him. His jagged edges simply protect all those sweet parts that he thinks he needs to hide when, truthfully, he doesn’t need to. Every tornado needs a reprieve in the form of a calm burst ofsexysunshine. And that’s exactlywhat he is, light within my darkness, but of course, I can’t let him know that otherwise we’ll never get out of here.

His tongue clicks, tension holding his jaw hostage, as he breaks the stronghold of his mouth to speak. “Next time you want to spit in my face, warn me,” he pauses, moving his saliva coated finger to my lips. “I’ll take my cock out for you to sit on. Don’t want to waste nature’s lube.”

“You fucking wish,” I playfully scoff before releasing an amused sigh. “Oh, and Colson?” I say sweetly, pausing so I know I have his full attention.

His brows lift in unison, waiting for me to go on.

“Put your finger in or near my mouth and I’ll fucking bite it off,” I threaten, showing my teeth as I chomp at him.

“Yeah, okay. You just don’t want to be tempted to suck it like you did in the dining room,” he grumbles, and my cheeks heat at the memory from a month ago.

“Whatever, dick,” I groan.

“Psycho,” he grumbles back.

Both our chests rise and fall in rapid unison. Just waiting for which one of us will break and say something next.

“Ahem,” the voice interrupts. “If you two are done, I believe it’s time to begin. I advise that you both save that gusto for when the games begin,” the voice states dryly. “Which will be momentarily, once we explain the rules.”

“Games?” we ask in unison.

“That's why we brought you here.”

“Kidnapped us,” Colson corrects.

“Is that judgment I detect in your voice? Rich coming from someone who had to resort to slipping someone a little nighttime potion so they could get their rocks off,” the anonymous speaker taunts, so matter-of -act that I’m not sure if I want to blush, laugh, or shout.

“How did you know that?” I ask.

“All of that will be answered in time, but first, if either of you want to make it out of here, we must explain the rules.”

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